


Fluttering

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Smallville, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-16
Updated: 2011-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:26:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wool socks, aliens and a training video.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fluttering

The Aficionados were extraordinarily pleased with the performance of the JLA, and had convinced Kal-el to stay overnight for a day of celebration. Plastic Man, the Flash and Wonder Woman partook gladly in the festivities, while Batman hung out on the Javelin and worked. The man was always busy, even when the others couldn’t find anything to do; it was simply his way. 

After the closing ceremonies, the JL said their goodbyes and headed to the Javelin. A large group of Aficionados came running to catch up with them. They were shouting for Kal-el in the tinny whine of their translator pendants, so he turned to meet them. The others stood at the lowered landing ramp of the Javelin and waited. And waited. The leader of the pack was gesturing ever more wildly, so Wally whispered to O’Brian.

“If he explodes with excitement, do you think we’re far enough back not to get covered in marshmallow fluff?”

“Just hope Superman doesn’t get mad enough to cross his eye beams.” Pat whispered back in between chuckles.

Diana just rolled her eyes. Even as they were greeted by the Aficionados, Flash and Plastic Man had been making weird references to a movie called _Ghostbusters_ and something called the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man. Diana wasn't sure what they were on about, but could almost understand the reference. She knew what a marshmallow was and figured that if a person was made out of them, then this is what they would look like. 

The males were white, and the females pink but she could see no other differences in the two. That was when she realized that the large crowd behind the leader was mostly pink. She was just about to get worried when Batman stalked past her. The man could crouch on a roof for six hours waiting for one crook, but had absolutely no patience for things like diplomacy and pleasantries of conversation. She sighed and took off after him, hoping to mitigate the damage he might cause with his caustic attitude.

“What’s the holdup?” Batman said in a voice that was relatively pleasant for him, but still made the six foot marshmallow tremble. Superman gave an embarrassed sort of chuckle before looking to Batman with pleading in his eyes.

“Sp’ta was just explaining to me that they gathered every willing participant during the festivities and I am expected to choose one. For a wife.” He added that last bit in a rush before finishing his statement. “I'm told they know they would have to leave their world and people behind to live with me on Earth, they are willing to do this to show what esteem they have for me, as the leader of this group. By refusing to choose one I would do them all a great dishonor and they would be forced to cut ties with us.”

Batman looked at Superman like he thought he was an idiot. Perversely, this made Superman feel a lot better, as his friend had a plan.

“Kal-el, did you tell Sp’ta that you were already married?” 

In that Batman voice of his, it was an obvious solution, except it was a lie and Superman didn't lie. Batman sought the truth like a deranged bloodhound but parceled it out to others like it was more precious than platinum. So Kal sputtered a little, allowing Batman to speak to Sp’ta.

“It is not legal where we live to have more than one spouse, and surely you can see that Kal-el wouldn’t break the law.” 

It was a nice out that allowed all parties to save face, but Sp’ta wasn’t ready to give up.

“If he is married, then where is his wife?”

“Do you take your wife everywhere you go?” Batman countered calmly and looked around as if he could spot Sp’ta’s wife in the mass of pink.

“I would if I was going on a space journey that would take an unknown length of time.” 

Superman thought it was a fair point and started to sweat again.

“Maybe he did.”

Batman replied calmly and Superman was at a complete loss as to where he was going with this. He doubted Diana would be willing to pose as his wife, in case they ever had to come back. Sp’ta seemed to puff up a little and Kal tried desperately not to remember the final fight from _Ghostbusters._

“I asked the female Diana about her mate at the reception and she said she did not have one. Is she a liar or are you?” 

Kal felt Batman tense; he hadn’t lied yet and resented being called that to his face. Kal glanced at Diana and she shrugged apologetically. He wasn’t mad at her, how could she have known the truth would lead to this?

“Not all places have the same rules about mating. It would be unwise to enter an unknown situation and openly display your mate, particularly a mate that might be controversial.” Batman’s voice was reason itself.

“But we do not have rules about mating! Love is love, is anyone capable of regulating that? So once he realized it was safe, he should have requested to share quarters with his loved one.”

“If his loved one slept in your guest quarters, he would’ve shared quarters with them.” 

It was a seemingly random statement of circular logic that Kal could not see convincing Sp’ta of anything, except Sp’ta’s eyes started doing this weird whirling thing. Kal looked at Diana and saw only shock on her face; he wondered if it was from the eye thing. Wally and Pat were now behind Diana and they looked as confused as Kal felt.

“Yo…you cannot be saying that.” Sp’ta finally sputtered out. He glanced at the Javelin then back at Batman. 

Kal wondered what the empty Javelin had to do with anything; Batman had been hiding in it since the crisis was over so it wasn’t like it had gone anywhere.

“No!” Sp’ta declared with enthusiasm. “I don’t believe it. Kal-el is a man of passion and light.”

“Light needs dark, it keeps the balance.” 

Kal’s mind took a spin; when had this conversation turned into a philosophical debate about balance in the universe? Sp’ta’s eyes whirled faster, bringing sparks of color to their black depths.

“Prove it.”

Sp’ta challenged Batman, and Batman never backed down from a challenge. If Kal understood the exact nature of the challenge or not was immaterial; Batman could still turn this marshmallow into s’mores without breaking a sweat. Kal turned to Batman to calm him down, order him to the Javelin if need be and found he was a lot closer than expected. Kal tried to hide his shock, when Batman was that close it was never a good sign. He saw Batman’s gantlets coming up and tried to brace himself for whatever was about to happen.

He still was so NOT ready when the hand behind his head pulled him to Batman’s lips. His shocked body did not need nearly as long to figure out what was happening as his brain did. Oh, it thought at him, Batman slept in the Javelin and not the guest quarters. He used this to convinced Sp’ta that we are married. Batman and I, married, and having sex. 

Freeing his brain from that thought before his emotions could catch up; Kal tried to figure out what his body was doing. His heart was doing this weird flutter that couldn’t be good for its long term health. He was feeling the surface texture of that sculpted body armor through his skin as his arms worked to press their bodies so close together they would eventually merge. Then, for no reason he could fathom, Batman tried to pull away.

“Bruce!” He growled with need and tried to pull him back. A fist impacted with the side of his skull away from the crowd, and he remembered their presence. Sheepishly, he let go of Batman (with his arctic stare) and turned to face Sp’ta. He felt himself turning into Clark and had to fight the urge to kick at the ground. “Sorry, Sp’ta. It’s very, ya know, new and I tend to get, uh, worked up when he kisses me like that. Batman is very passionate, when you get to know him, so we do fit well together.”

Every word was the truth and Sp’ta slowly accepted it from Kal-el, though he felt the need for the last word. “Just remember us, if your Batman ever gets to be too much trouble.”

Sp’ta then bowed, as did the rest of the Aficionados, Kal bowed back even as Batman started for the Javelin. Nobody said a word on the ten hour flight to Earth. Batman meditated, and then slept, something he usually tried to do but was prevented from by the noise of his fellow travelers. Kal simply thought, with every part of his brain that was not engaged in flying the Javelin, only one thought (which he had to borrow from Plastic Man). Great googly-moogly on a stick!

They were a quiet group when they landed and Batman was back in Gotham in record time. Superman only had a few things to check over so it wasn’t long before Clark's thoughts were back on that kiss. It had happen after the crisis, so it wouldn't go in his report but he was wondering if the others would include it. Listening around, he found Wally and Pat in the cafeteria and started making his way there. He did not intend to eavesdrop, but their subject was of great concern to him. Their voices where hushed and conspiratorial, but came in quite clearly to Superman.

“Makes you wonder what he does without the mask. I mean, kissing like that takes a lot of practice.” Clark wondered what Wally knew about kissing practice, but not enough to ask.

“Yeah, Supes didn’t know what hit him. Figured it out real quick though and came back like he was going to take Batman right there.” Clark felt heat growing on his face, glad Pat thought he figured out what was happening long before he actually had.

“Good thing the stay-puff man wasn’t good at reading human emotions, he would have figured out Batman’s stare was not the goo-goo eyes of love.” So Clark wasn’t the only one to notice the arctic temperatures shooting out of those crystal blue eyes.

“You sure? Bats can make those stares mean anything. He might have just been pissed off by whatever Supes growled at him, sounded like a name.” If anybody knew about the power of those stares it was Plastic Man, winner of Most Bat-glares in a single JL meeting.

“You think Bats has the hots for Supes? Don’t be silly! I mean, ok, I can see Supes being gay, but if I try too hard to imagine Batman having sex with anyone or anything, my brain will explode.” Clark wondered why Wally could see him as gay, before he was distracted by Pat.

“Normally I would agree with you, but that was one hot kiss. Man, if I only had a camera! Do you know how many hits that would have gotten on YouTube?” O’Brian murmured with longing.

“YouTube? Sell it to the networks and retire rich. Of course, you wouldn’t live long as Batman would kill you dead, but it would be nice while it lasted.” Wally said, for once the voice of reason.

“Cameras!” Pat spat out with amazement in his voice.

“What?”

“The Javelin’s cameras record everything they see during the mission, and we were right in front of it!” This sentence was followed by the clatter of chairs being pushed back as both men stood at the same time.

The Flash and Superman were pretty evenly matched for speed, but Kal had started moving the moment he heard the word Javelin. He was leaning against the Javelin when Wally came in at top speed, carrying Plastic Man on his back shaped like a shark’s fin.

“Hey guys.” He said just a little too casually. “What are you doing here?”

“Umm” Wally said articulately. “My, uh, cell phone. I thought maybe I left it in the Javelin.”

“Oh? I didn’t see it.”

“What are you doing here?” O’Brian asked, trying desperately for casual.

“Just trying to figure out what’s wrong with the Javelin’s cameras.” Kal said with a nonchalant shrug. “It seems they didn’t record anything after the cultural festivities. I was just wondering if I needed to bring Batman back up here, you know, to look at it.”

Ok, so using Batman as a threat against his own teammates was wrong, but so was putting an awkward situation on the internet without permission. They got the hint, made some feeble excuses and wandered off together. Kal listened to them for a while, but they were suddenly very careful in what they said. 

Entering the Javelin, Kal messed with the footage until just at the part where he was flagged down by the crowd but held his finger over the delete key for a long period of indecision. Finally, he saved the complete footage to his personal files on the league computers, hidden as best as he could and deleted it from the Javelin’s memory.

As he made his way to his quarters, Clark did wonder why Bruce would leave such an image where anybody in the league could see it. Wally and Pat had probably been joking about selling or posting it, but it would have made the rounds of the league at least. Somebody with good ears or audio enhancement software could probably hear him calling out Bruce’s name, and Batman’s identity was only known by a few members of the league. Batman would know all that better than anyone so he must’ve left it deliberately. But why would he leave it? What message was he trying to send?

Clark pulled up the video in the privacy of his quarters and decide a thorough, analytical review of the footage would help him figure out Batman’s message. Everyone thought Batman lacked tack, but in this situation he had steered the conversation to an efficient conclusion with only a few, truthful, sentences. His words had prevented an interstellar incident that might have hurt the JL’s commitment to harmony in the galaxy. But then on-screen Batman turned to face on-screen Superman, who turned to him with confusion plastered across his face. Then those hands pulled their mouths together and Clark’s heart started doing that flutter again. 

He tried to be impassive as he watched, tried to notice the time code, and tried to not notice the way his arms had pulled Batman to him, wrapped themselves so firmly around him. And he desperately did not notice what his hips were doing, hoping his cape kept the Aficionados from seeing it. Clark wasn’t even sure it was his voice that growled out of his throat, it was huskier and far more demanding than his voice ever was. Then Batman was hitting him on the head and he was coming out of it. Other than the red of his cheeks, he looked perfectly normal and calm as he turned to speak, honestly, to Sp’ta.

Once his heart settled down, Clark watched it again, and again. On his fifth viewing, he actually did notice the time code. Three minutes. Three full minutes of kissing before Batman tried to pull away and had to remind Clark of why they were kissing in the first place. 

How could a human, who needed to breath, kiss for three minutes and then walk off without gasping for air? Why three minutes exactly? Was Bruce counting down in his head the perfect time for proving they were in love? And, considering how many times he had watched this video, why was Clark still affected by it? Shouldn’t he have gotten bored instead of feeling the need to take a shower as cold as Batman’s stare?

He closed out the file and floated over to the bed. Settling down he tried to logically determine why it bothered him so much. Was it because it was so hard to imagine Batman having sex, like Wally and Pat thought? He knew Bruce Wayne’s reputation, had heard of him doing things that would make a prostitute blush, but thought most of it was wild rumor, encouraged by Bruce. And Batman was a truly passionate individual, hidden for efficiency’s sake, but look at the passion and drive it took to turn himself into the man he was.

In a straight fight he could take Batman, and Bruce was certainly a hard person to have a meaningful relationship with because of his personal problems. But the truth was that he did desire a deeper relationship with Bruce. Earth women had intrigued him, Lex and Ollie had been challenges to befriend, but Bruce Wayne was always one step ahead of him. How long had he spent on that landing zone talking to Sp’ta, trying to figure a diplomatic way out of things? Batman had walked up and found a solution before he had even finished hearing about the problem! It was exasperating, exhausting and Clark couldn’t get enough of it.

Clark glanced at the clock and was startled to see six hours had gone by in pointless musings. The night was mostly over and he had more questions than answers. Questions about himself he had avoided since he first realized what Bruce’s proximity did to him. Questions about Bruce’s intentions. Questions about the future. Things he would really have loved to talk over with his best friend, except his best friend was the cause of most of the questions. Groaning, he rolled to his feet and headed for the teleporter. Maybe he could clear his head by flying around Metropolis in the dawn light. He was almost there when Diana materialized from a joining corridor.

“Morning Kal. You don’t look like you slept well.” She was annoyingly cheery for how Clark felt.

“I didn’t actually sleep, had some things to take care of.”

“Really? If it was me, I would have been thinking about that kiss.” Her comment seemed idle, but amusement flickered in her eyes as Clark stopped in the middle of the corridor. “Relax, Kal. I’m simply saying that a kiss from Batman is bound to be memorable. Maybe even upsetting?”

Clark stared a moment longer before deciding that Diana was a friend too, and he could talk openly to her. He started walking again, but slowly. By facing where he was going, he didn’t have to look at the emotions on her face. “It wasn’t upsetting in a bad way. It just made me think about things that I have been trying not to think about, if that makes any sense.”

He could hear suppressed laughter in her voice but ignored it in favor of her words. 

“I didn’t know that you have had these ideas before, but when Bruce kissed you, it became apparent how badly you wanted it. You and Bruce have always complemented each other, like he was saying about darkness and light. Batman is also a creature of reason; you have to force him to admit he feels anything. You are very smart, but it is your heart that puts mortals to shame. Your capacity to care and not lose hope probably completes Batman, just as he completes you. Having said all that, my only question is to wonder why you are using reason to decide the future of your relationship, instead of playing to your strength; your heart.”

Clark entered the teleporter room in a daze, wondering at the wisdom in Diana’s words. He turned to thank her, and she was already standing at the controls. Backing up, he mounted the platform and spoke to her.

“Thank you for being such a wise friend, Diana. As always, you’re a wonder.” 

She grinned at the ancient joke and activated the controls. A moment later and Clark looked at the false dawn streaking the sky and took a deep breath. Before he could lift off, he noticed he wasn’t at his Metropolis coordinates. He was standing atop the Gotham Museum. Apparently Diana was trying to help him decide. It didn’t really matter; the flight to Metropolis would do him good and help clear his mind. So he lifted off and turned toward the Batcave, stopped himself and started to turn toward Metropolis. Indecision kept him stationary while his brain refused to work. When his communicator signaled, he activated it gratefully.

“Superman here.”

“Something I can help you with?” That scary voice growled in his ear, clearly miffed that Superman was in Gotham. Diana was right, he needed Batman’s reason to make a decision about this, or talk him out of the one his heart wanted to make.

“So it’s not an emergency then?” Batman’s voice brought him back to the present. Bruce only had patience for those he was about to beat into a pulp.

“No emergency, just something I need to talk with you about. Are you headed home for the day?” Surprised at how calm and neutral his voice managed to sound, Clark picked an indirect route and headed for Wayne Manor.

“Almost there now, you know the way.”

His indirect route and fear about the upcoming conversation kept him away while Batman parked and shut down the computer systems in the Batmobile. He was heading for the changing area when Clark entered the cave. Clark leaned casually against the wall as Bruce began his routine. 

Batman's life depended on his equipment so he took excellent care of it. Changing his gloves with a pair of plastic disposables, he systematically cleaned the gloves. Any suspicious substances got collected for further testing. After the gloves were put away, he started on the cape and cowl.

“I thought you wanted to talk, not stare.” The Batman voice had disappeared with the cowl and Clark knew from experience that this was when Bruce was himself, not Brucie or Batman. When he was the most perfect. Clark sighed and forced himself to talk.

“I didn’t know what you wanted done with the footage, so I deleted it from the Javelin’s memory banks.”

Bruce seemed genuinely confused as he ran diagnostics on the cowl’s electronic components. “Footage of what?”

“The kiss, Bruce.” It was probably pointless, as Batman could beat any lie detector test ever invented, but Clark was listening to his body respond to the words. Nothing changed, but Bruce could multitask better than anyone on the planet and he was seriously focused on putting his cowl away. Interesting.

“Why didn’t you erase it before you left?” Keep the conversation as professional as long as possible, let Bruce relax before Clark said what he came to say.

“Wally and O’Brian saw it happen, so it’s defiantly going to be talked about. Erasing the footage just makes it look like more than it was.” Bruce shrugged before pulling off his chest armor. 

Clark checked that impressive chest for new damage before allowing himself to respond. Casually respond, that was the key.“What was it?”

Bruce’s focus on his armor was absolute as he responded. “Yet another group of people fell in love with your image, and I had to do something to prevent you from accepting a spouse you did not need, want or love. I used words and logic to get us out of a situation, which could make a useful training video, but that is all it was.”

Clark’s shocked brain chose not to hear that last little bit. “A training video, Bruce?”

Bruce sat on a bench and started on his boots. “People will never voluntarily watch a training video, so it’s an effective way to limit the number of times it’s seen.”

Clark tried to make his mind process the idea of Batman forcing new members of the JLA watch them kiss, but his brain refused. He came back to reality staring at Bruce’s socks.

“Wool?” He asked as Bruce started on his utility belt. That at least caused Bruce to glance at him.

“So what?”

“Unlimited technology of the planet at your disposal, millions of dollars invested in gear to keep you safe and you wear wool socks?”

Bruce shot him an irritated look. “Wool has a high capacity for heat retention while whisking water and perspiration away from the foot. Athletes’ foot is a treatable annoyance, but the discomfort it causes could distract me or prevent me from being an effective fighter. There are more expensive options but they don’t function as well as advertised.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.” Clark shook his head in wonder at a sudden new thought.

“I think about everything.” Bruce said honestly, without considering all the ramifications for once. His guard was down, so Clark pounced.

“Yes, you do. So why three minutes?” Bruce’s hands stilled for just a moment before going back to restocking his belt.

“Three minutes? In relation to what?”

Clark had to laugh. “Don’t play for ignorance, Bruce, it only works on people who don’t know you.”

A long silence broken by the clack of gas pellets being shoved into their compartment. “I figured a minute would adequately convince Sp’ta that we held sexual feelings for each other. Your, shall we say ‘enthusiastic response’ caused me to challenge my calculations.”

“Wait, is that Bat-talk for my kissing threw you for a loop?” Clark’s heart started doing that bizarre flutter again. That flutter which sounded too much like the wings of the bats now swooping in from a night’s hunt.

A grunt that Clark took as an affirmative was his only answer. Bruce put his belt up and started for the shower, dressed in his armored pants and wool socks.

“Have you thought about it?” Clark tried for the casual voice he had at the beginning of this conversation but failed miserably.

“About what?” Bruce sounded casual, but no one needed to pay that much attention to picking a towel off the rack.

With a sigh, Clark was behind him. They weren’t touching but still close enough to feel each other breathe. Clark whispered in Bruce’s ear. “About us, naked, sweaty and in every room of the mansion, the apartment, the watchtower and the fortress?”

No vocal answer, not even the slightest movement. Deep, controlled breaths that were an answer in their own right, but Clark needed to hear it.

“So you, who ‘thinks about everything’, has never thought about winding up in bed with me?” Clark leaned forward and saw Bruce’s eyes were closed. Listening, he realized Bruce’s heart was beating quite fast for someone standing still and breathing deeply. Clark only noticed how hard that thought made him when he realized he was now touching Bruce without having changed position.

“It wouldn’t work!” Bruce’s sudden speech was almost chaotic; Clark could hear the fight for control in those words. “We’re too different, we’ve too much to accomplish and too many responsibilities.”

“You have thought about it then!” Clark wanted to write their names on the sky, but thought of a much better use for his energies. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“It’s a bad idea, Clark.” Bruce was slowly regaining control, but Clark thought his next move would take care of that.

“No, that’s not what I was thinking. Here, let me give you a hint.” So saying, he pushed forward and made sure Bruce felt that erection through the body armor on his ass. Bruce sucked in air, those meditation breathes forgotten. “That’s right Bruce, I was trying to decide if I should let you take off those expensive pants or peel you like a banana.”

His right hand found a nipple and slowly traced the line of chest hair down inside those pants. The armor wasn’t made to expand, so the blood was having a difficult time of it but had still managed to inflate Bruce’s naughty bits. Worried Bruce was about to injure his equipment, Clark was moving his left hand to start peeling when Bruce moved. It always startled Clark that Bruce could move that fast, but the offending pants were coming off and that was all that mattered now. Then they were facing each other, kissing and stroking and dear God what were his hips doing now?

Deciding his hips thought it was time to Hula, Clark tried to stop them, except then him and Bruce were moving sideways into the ludicrously expensive shower with automatic lights and sprays. Clark wanted to see Bruce, perfect and aroused for him but Clark’s hands wouldn’t let him lose. Pulling Bruce close and upward, he managed to get his dick between Bruce’s legs and against his ass. Here, his inability to control his hands stymied him again, until Bruce sensed the difficulty. Bruce apparently didn’t want to quit exploring Clark’s body either, as he simply pressed backward until Clark was inside his butt cheeks. 

It wasn’t what Clark had in mind, but it still felt really good and he started to move in that water soaked skin. When he was ready for more, he must have shown it because Bruce started squeezing. He probably could crack a walnut with his ass and seemed to be trying it with Clark’s penis, and it felt stupendously good. Clark tried to prolong it, see how long Bruce could clinch those muscles but he grunted and added his own fluid Bruce’s body.

When he recovered enough to breathe, an impatient grind at his hip reminded him Bruce still needed attention. Finally his hands were ready to cooperate, so he picked Bruce up by the shoulders, pinned his back against the shower wall and bent awkwardly to take Bruce’s erection into his mouth. Bruce’s fingers dug into his hair and his hips started a dance of their own. Then Bruce was exploding into his mouth and Clark kept up his activity until the tremors stopped. Letting Bruce out of his mouth and down the wall, Clark leaned in to hug the object of his affections.

“The batcave shower. That’s one room down, how many do you think we have left?” Clark’s voice was teasing; he didn’t really expect an answer. He also didn’t expect to be twirled and flung out of the shower.

“The batcave armory. That leaves four hundred and thirty five rooms.” Hearing that in Bruce’s ridiculously calm voice made Clark decide he was going to make Bruce lose count just so they had to start over. Of course, if he said that Bruce would never allow himself to lose count, so Clark searched for something else to say. Fortunately, he was given a wet, naked Bruce advancing on him with fire in his eyes that belied the calm voice.

“Why Bruce, you have thought about everything!”


End file.
